


Stubborn

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Married Couple, Pregnancy, filled request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: Alfred already had to live with a pregnant Rosa, how difficult could a baby be?





	Stubborn

**Author's Note:**

> Filled request that was made a long, long time ago on my Tumblr. This is my first time writing fem!England so I hope it is decent :)

Rosa was alarmingly pregnant. Alfred noted this as he nestled her third packet of pickle-flavored chips into her lap upon her stern request.

She hated pickles.

She’d despised them for all the years they’d been together, but apparently, it was different now, seeing as she’d sent Alfred out in the middle of the night to fetch them for her. “It’s an _emergency,”_ she’d said, waking him up with ten smacks to the arms that were wrapped so snugly around her. She simply _had_ to have them, right then and there.

And so Alfred went, falling into a well-worn routine for the sake of his beloved, English wife. One, to slink into his car half asleep, two, spend a few minutes waking himself up, and three, drive out to the nearest convenience store, hoping to _god_ they had the brand Rosa wanted.

There were no other options, no other steps, none. Not after what had happened the last time he even considered straying from the path, when not long ago, on the drive home from work, she’d called him, voice honey sweet as she buttered her husband up, “I miss you, I need you…”

“Oh, and I’m also really craving that one ice cream you can only get half an hour away from here, love you, bye!”

Alfred had been tired. He had been hungry, and his fingers ached from typing at his work desk for hours on end. So, it was only natural that he was going to cut some corners!

After all, Rosa wouldn’t know the difference between gourmet and store bought. Not if Alfred managed to sprint home and scoop the ice cream into a cup before she saw the packaging.

That had been his initial plan, yes, but alas, as soon as he had opened the door, grocery bag in hand, there Rosa was, waiting intently for him on the other side with a plate of warm brownies, fresh out of the oven.

“I’m sorry I made you go so far.” Had been her reason as she jutted them out for him to inspect. Alfred had seen signs of charring at the edges, but the warm, sinking middle had his stomach turning, a feeling originating from both hunger and guilt. “These would go marvelously with the ice cream!”

Needless to say, she hadn’t been very happy to see the kitschy carton of ice cream that certainly was _not_ the one she’d asked for.

Alfred had still stood by the fact that if it weren’t for the packaging, she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference, but a good man learns from his mistakes. Alfred had, since then, gotten Rosa exactly what she wanted, no loop-holes, no short-cuts. 

Which brought him to situations like these. 

He put on a brave face. “Rosie, don’t you think you’ve had enough of those?”

A murderous flash of those green eyes sealed Alfred’s lips shut and kept his eyes averted. He wasn’t to say anything about it- not a word about the wrappers of the previous two packets littering the floor, because _she was going to work out tomorrow so it didn’t matter_ , nor about the eyes swimming with tears as the couple on the TV screen fought over something petty, because _those were just allergies._

And though Alfred had learned not to look at her for too long, lest she think he was mocking her pregnancy-chub, he couldn’t help stealing a glance as Rosa licked the crumbs off her lips, sniffling into her palms as the couple proceeded to engage in a furious lip-lock.

She could be so cute.

Until she turned to find her husband staring- Alfred was caught. With a quick swipe of her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest, “Are you done gawking?”

“Uh- sorry, babe.” Was the mumbled response.

“I’m not crying.” Rosa declared almost quickly after, rubbing the curve of her belly with thick brows furrowed, “It’s the baby.”

Yes, the baby. It was always the baby.

“Well,” Alfred said dismissively- perhaps _too_ dismissively, so he paused, starting again, gentler, “Do you want to, maybe, come to bed? It’s really late-”

“Aren’t you going to comfort me, damn it! I’m _crying!”_

Rosa was bawling now, and had it been months earlier when Alfred was but a novice when it came to her mood swings, he would’ve blanked out on the spot. Instead, like the wise man he was, he sunk in beside her on the couch, pulling her wet face into his chest and letting a calming hand massage her scalp.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just a fictional show, I cry ‘cause of them too!”

He really didn’t, but for the sake of keeping her sanity somewhat intact, it had to be said. She believed anything in moments like these, despite having lived with Alfred for years now and knowing that the only tears that would ever come from a movie was if it scared him shitless.

“I’m not crying.” She mumbled, and Alfred rolled his eyes. “You would be, though, that rotten child doesn’t give an ounce of respect to his mother! It’s depressing!”

Ah, one look to the screen gave Alfred all the answers he needed. It was a dramatized, over-exaggerated reality T.V show, one Rosa swore up and down she would never watch. Perhaps it was the lack of anything else on the television, as Rosa always said it was, but Alfred now knew why she had those big tears swimming in her eyes. He almost wanted to laugh.

Fearing a slap, or worse, a packet of half-finished pickle chips being thrown right at him, Alfred kissed her forehead instead, “Kids aren’t all bad, Rosa, I know ours is going to be amazing.”

“You don’t know that.” Rosa mumbled, “They could inherit my stubbornness and wreak havoc on us both.”

Alfred blinked, partly stunned that she admitted to being difficult. It had to be a trap.

Which is why he inched around the subject, lips parting for honeyed words, one hundred percent true to the last bone in his tired, tired body, “Your stubbornness is part of why I love you, you know?”

And just when he thought he’d won, when those green eyes looked up at him all hazy like they did when he’d said the right things, they narrowed just as fast, hand smacking at Alfred’s arm.

“You were supposed to disagree, you idiot! Do you _really_ think I’m stubborn?”

“You need to get to bed,” Alfred interjected, a last-minute scrape at changing the topic. 

He decided against attempting to carry her. Instead, he took her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet, something that would’ve been hard to do if she hadn’t decided to get up as well. “You need some rest, Mrs. Jones.”

“It’s Mrs. Kirkland-Jones, dolt,” Rosa grunted, patting her belly as the warm hand on her back led her to their bedroom. “Remember? I was too _stubborn_ to change my last name.”  

She climbed into bed and Alfred drew the blanket over her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss onto her lips and ignoring the salty, pickle-y tang.

“I’m going to go clean up your mess, and when I get back you better be asleep.”

A whine. Alfred folded his arms.

“I never got to see how the episode ended!” Rosa complained, to which Alfred stepped through the bedroom door, hand resting on the knob.

“The couple realizes they’re madly in love and their kid apologizes with a badly-drawn crayon card, the end.”

“And… does the husband bring his wife her unfinished packet of crisps to eat in bed?”

“Good night, Rosa,” Alfred replied with a chuckle as he brought the door to a close, barely hearing his wife’s muffled response as he turned to face the living room, a couch drowned in snack-wrappers bathed in the light of the idle television.

He already lived with a pregnant Rosa, how hard could a baby be?


End file.
